I Redeemed Him, But Who Will Redeem Me? - Chapter 18

This day, after being corrected, was practically perfect.

But when it came time to sleep, Lin Xicai finally started feeling uneasy. She wasn’t sure whether this “perfection” would carry over to the next day.

Or in other words, would she wake up again only to find herself back at square one?

“Please, don’t let tomorrow be another sports day…” Lin Xicai grew anxious. One first-place finish was enough; running another 1500 meters every day would be terrifying.

She sat up in bed, her eyes fixed on the date on the screen, waiting for the result.

Her emotions were in turmoil, nerves stretched to the limit, heart racing up and down—until the date finally changed to the next day, and she could finally relax.

Her worst fear didn’t happen. When the sun rose, she welcomed a brand-new day.

That night, Lin Xicai entered the space again—by now, it had been a full two days since that person had been there.

Curious, she wondered what her guest had become.

…

She disappeared before his eyes.

She left him completely alone in the darkness.

An old, long-dormant stress response, suppressed for many years, seemed to awaken like a ghost. In an instant, he felt as if he had returned to a cramped, pitch-black trunk from over ten years ago. Every part of his body twitched and twisted in agony, making his stomach hurt and nausea rise.

There was no sound around him—absolute silence, not even the honk of a car.

It was like being trapped in a vacuum.

Like being buried alive. Like being confined in a coffin.

Although there seemed to be air, the very thought made it hard to breathe.

Inside, Li Ci screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls and returning as a cold, eerie echo.

He was startled by his own strange voice, crawling on the floor to find a door, a window. His growing anxiety clouded his thoughts; his soul felt detached, floating above, watching a figure identical to him struggle on the ground.

Suddenly, he felt suffocated. His fingernails dug into his flesh—only the pain reassured him he was still alive.

The terrifying part was that he didn’t know what would happen next, nor how long this living-death darkness would last.

He tried to fall asleep, but woke repeatedly, each time opening his eyes to the same darkness.

Time lost all meaning; he gradually lost track of how many times he had woken up. His mouth was dry and bitter, his stomach twisted in pain.

He thought it was a nightmare and went mad trying to “wake up,” digging his nails into his flesh to rouse himself.

But despite the pain, he couldn’t awaken. He became delirious, his arms scratched until bloodied…

By the time Lin Xicai saw him again, he was in this state: filthy, broken, humiliated. When the light came on, it seemed to flash painfully in his eyes. Li Ci screamed and buried his head in his arms.

He curled up in a corner; at some point, his uniform jacket had been torn off and thrown aside. His white shirt clung to his sweat-soaked skin, the bl00d on his arms staining the fabric terribly.

Lin Xicai frowned, slightly disgusted, and sat on a sofa far from him.

Li Ci suddenly looked up at her, his eyes terrifying, filled with fear and hatred. Bloodshot veins filled his eyes, his cracked lips oozed fresh bl00d as he spoke hoarsely:

“Let me go… I’ll forgive you, I won’t call the police, I can pay you, anything you want…”

Lin Xicai said nothing. She placed her bag on her lap, unzipped it, and began throwing the bulging contents toward him: bottled water, sausages, some cheap bread.

Her high-and-mighty way of feeding him seemed to enrage him further. Li Ci’s throat bobbed uncontrollably as he swallowed a few times, then angrily swept the food aside.

It seemed he had no intention of eating.

As if eating meant losing.

Lin Xicai nodded with a smile, finally speaking her first words to him there:

“Not bad, quite a bit of backbone. If you can starve yourself to death here, I’d respect you more.”

She stepped two paces closer, picked up a piece of bread from the floor, tore it open, and threw it to him. The aroma wafted toward him. Li Ci glared at the bread, then at her, eyes reddening:

“…Do you want to die?”

Lin Xicai remained silent, internally smirking.

He thought his refusal to eat could threaten anyone.

She didn’t believe he had that kind of willpower anyway.

Lin Xicai didn’t linger; even a minute longer felt unlucky. She turned to leave. The space plunged into darkness again the moment she moved.

“Don’t turn off the light… turn… turn the light on! B1tch! Turn the light on… you’re dead… I won’t forgive you…”

Li Ci’s hoarse, filthy curses reached her ears, but she remained unmoved. Yet, the feeling of being watched crept over her again.

This time, the sensation was even stronger, and she was certain it wasn’t coming from Li Ci.

Insults, screams, the scent of bl00d and struggle—all acted as catalysts.

That gaze was hot, intense, playful, like watching two wild dogs fight.

It felt tangible, yet she couldn’t locate its source. She began doubting herself.

No one else could enter this space except her.

She knew exactly what was hidden in this space.

No one could hide here without her noticing.

Yet… how could she explain this feeling? Was it really just an illusion?

Lin Xicai didn’t plan to spend too much energy on Li Ci; she intended to leave him two more days—he’d eventually behave.

But he turned out more stubborn than she imagined. She didn’t get his surrender first; instead, she got inflamed wounds, followed by a high fever that left him unconscious.

Lin Xicai was exasperated, worried it might become life-threatening. She went to the pharmacy and bought various cold medicines.

Medicine was strictly controlled in this world. She could only get basic cold remedies, which she administered several times. The fever fluctuated but didn’t fully subside.

Lin Xicai looked at the wounds on his arms and neck. She guessed they might be infected. To truly reduce the fever, she’d need to dress the wounds and use anti-inflammatory medicine.

But obtaining those was tricky.

She also needed other supplies, like ointments and gauze. Buying all these at once would certainly raise suspicion. Later, if someone investigated, how would she explain these unusual actions?

Zhong Ping hadn’t returned yet. Lin Xicai sat alone on the living room sofa, lost in thought. Her gaze fell on the fruit plate on the coffee table.

She bent slightly, picked up an apple, and casually grabbed a fruit knife.

If she accidentally cut herself and got a real wound, she would have the perfect excuse.

Lin Xicai paused, the sharp blade tracing the apple’s surface…

“Feifei, you’re back?”

Zhong Ping entered, chattering: “How about dinner with fried sauce noodles tonight? We just made the sauce at lunch.”

Lin Xicai froze mid-action. “Ah… okay.”

Zhong Ping walked over, saw her peeling the apple, and naturally took over, skillfully continuing. “I saw you bought cold medicine. Feeling better? Do you want to go to the hospital?”

Lin Xicai stared at the apple in her hands, shook her head: “I’m fine, just a little headache. It’s gone now.”

Zhong Ping quickly handed her the peeled apple, patted her shoulder affectionately, and headed to the kitchen.

Lin Xicai awkwardly took the apple, biting into it. Her plan was interrupted.

The next day, there was a PE class. Lin Xicai thought a little scrape during PE would be very normal. With witnesses, taking medicine for a wound would make sense.

She nodded internally, thinking it would be easy to execute. A long-distance champion falling was normal.

In the next PE class, as usual, they began with a two-lap run—just two laps. No formation was strictly required.

Z-class was already lax, and after the first half-lap, the line dispersed.

Lin Xicai, ready to enact her injury plan, quietly moved to the back row.

Everything was set. She took a deep breath and counted down in her mind.

Ten.
Nine.
Eight…
Three.
Two.
One.

At the last count, she gritted her teeth. Her legs wobbled, and her knees were about to hit the track.

But the anticipated pain didn’t arrive. Halfway down, a sudden force struck her arms, lifting her off the ground.

Her arms were gripped tightly by a strong, well-defined hand through thin clothing. Hot, rough, with a faint aura of agitation.

She turned her head and met those deep, indifferent amber eyes.

Their bodies were close. That cold, exclusive aura of his brushed against her breath. The oppressive presence briefly disrupted her breathing.

His expression remained calm, yet she saw a rare flicker of emotion—he seemed displeased.

She looked at him, puzzled. Her clear eyes reddened slightly from the dull pain in her arms, as if veiled by a thin mist.

Their eyes met. Suddenly, Xie Shi furrowed his brows and pulled his hand back sharply, letting her fall to the ground.

He spoke for the first time: a rare two-word remark, coldly:

“Foolish.”

Then he strode away.

Lin Xicai: ?

She sat on the track, full of question marks.

…What is he doing?

He had already done a favor unnecessarily, going beyond what she wanted. How could he be mad at himself for it?